


A Lovely View

by claroso



Series: The Clara Amell Story [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 18:36:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20680043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claroso/pseuds/claroso
Summary: Clara has always thought that Zevran's flirting was a nuisance, a distraction. That he never really meant it, he just liked annoying her. She never even considered that he was truly attracted to her, at least until now.





	A Lovely View

**Author's Note:**

> This is taking quite a page from my bf and I's relationship. Before we started dating, I was just so annoyed with how handsome and flirty he was.

"What exactly are you doing?“

The spell fizzled out and she opened her eyes. Looking back at the elf that was _supposed_ to be guarding her, she glared. Zevran was lounging on the ground and openly staring at her, completely ignoring the dark creepy forest around them, probably filled with bears and wolves and darkspawn. “Are you deaf? I’m setting the wards around the camp.”

"No, I heard. But how do you do that? From back here it looks like you aren’t doing much, just standing. Not that I mind having a chance to admire your wonderful, ah… figure, of course.“ He grinned salaciously.

Clara huffed, ignoring the fluttering in her chest. "Were you this annoying when you worked for the Crows?”

"Yes.“

"No wonder they sent you to Ferelden.”

"Hm, quite a fitting punishment, sending such a lively soul to this dreary, muddy country. But!“ He exclaimed, clasping his hand over his heart. "Never fear my dear Warden! I shall not let these terrible trials dampen my spirits!”

"Thank the Maker.“ She said dryly and turned around. Closing her eyes, she raised her hands and held the image of the spell in her mind. Magic, light and feathery to the touch, swirled around her lazily. She coaxed it into tighter, faster spirals. She begins murmuring the incantation under her breath.

She felt Zevran’s gaze on her, almost burning into her. She stumbled over the words and the spell broke apart under her hands. 

"You’re staring.”

"I cannot help it, truly.“ There’s a hint of apology in his voice. "Besides, I am curious about magic. How does it work? Is it instinctual or something you have to learn?”

Clara rubbed the bridge of her nose. “It’s… it’s both.”

"How is it both?“

She turned around, a barb on the tip of her tongue. But he was looking earnestly up at her. She faltered. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but for him to be genuinely interested in her answer wasn’t it. 

"Some magic… its automatic–I just think and its there at my fingertips.” She snapped and brilliant flames danced above her hand. “Other magic–this ward–it's something Morrigan taught me. It requires more focus, more work.”

He nodded. “So, defensive spells are learned and offensive spells are not?”

"For me. Its different for every mage. I knew a mage who had mastered healing spells at 19, but couldn’t light a candle to save his life.“ She smiled. "There’s usually a type or school of magic that a mage is more of a natural at. It didn’t take any training for me to use fire magic. But for ice or healing, or say, enchanting a weapon, I studied and memorized the spells, and sometimes I need certain symbols or materials.” 

"Interesting, Thank you for explaining.“

"Right.” She gestured towards the camp. “Now can I finish the ward?”

Zevran mimed locking his lips.

She set the ward and a wave of faint light washed over the clearing. Finally.

"All done, let’s go.“ She started towards the camp, the elf following her. When she glanced back at him, he held her gaze. She quickly looked away. "You’re still staring.”

"I am.“ He said lightly. "Surely you are used to it. A beautiful woman such as yourself must draw many stares from men and even other women.”

She scoffed. “Right.”

A long pause. “Does it bother you?”

"…not really, no.“ She shrugged. "It is simply distracting. To be looked at like, well, like that.”

"Like what?“

"Like–like a man looks at a woman.” She said quickly, tripping over her words. She quickened her pace. “And I don’t know why you insist on bothering me with it, when you have more attractive options back at camp.”

Without warning, he moved in front of her. She crashed into him, but he grabbed her waist and held her steady. He smiled, slowly and dangerously.

For a man a head shorter than her, he was quite strong, Clara thought distantly. Her hands were somehow grasping his shoulders.

"I assure you, my prickly Warden,“ his eyes rested on her lips, then slowly traveling back up to meet her gaze. "I don’t look at anyone else the way I look at you.”

Her mouth opened to respond, but the words were caught in her throat. Something flipped in her stomach.

Zevran released her and stepped back, all the heat gone from his gaze. "But if you prefer I stop, I shall.“ His smile was gentle, understanding. "I am nothing if not a gentlemen.”

She shivered. She did like it, she realized. She liked the attention, the flirting, the staring. The odd feeling in her chest when he was around wasn’t annoyance. She liked _him._

And he, evidently, liked her.

The thought thrilled her, like she was standing on the edge of a cliff and feeling the wind rush past her.

"Not too much of a gentleman, I hope.“ She said quietly.

His grin widened. "I suppose we’ll see.” He winked and continued walking to the camp.

Walking behind him, she let herself enjoy the view.


End file.
